


I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory

by VolunteerFieryDantooinian



Series: sometimes death seems better than the migraine in my head [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Angst/Fluff, Crying, Dissociation, Emotional Whump, Existential Crisis, Existentialism, Existentialism via illness, Hallucinations, Headaches, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sickfic, Struggling with superpowers, Vibes and illness don't mix well, sort of, vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-08-29 02:42:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8472424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolunteerFieryDantooinian/pseuds/VolunteerFieryDantooinian
Summary: And he felt empty, horrifyingly, heartbreakingly empty. His energy was gone, if it was ever there in the first place."I can't breathe." He stumbled over the words, stuttering and clipped and breathless. Title from the musical Hamilton. We all know which song this is from. Come on.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Writing Cisco this way is really fun, and I don't plan on stopping. Unless it sucks. Tell me if it sucks.

It was something like 11'o clock at night when the insomnia started consuming him.

He could feel it trailing its icy fingers up and down his back, chest, everywhere. He thinks about his chest a little. The way Thawne's hand had pushed through and burned and stopped his heart. Cisco remembered the way the blood had choked him, flooding his lungs and throat and painting his tongue scarlet with the warm, metallic liquid.

He wasn't able to breathe then, and he wasn't able to much now, coughing harshly. His fingernails dug into his throat and tears bubbled hot at the corners of his eyes.

Cisco fumbled for the light switch, and managed to flip it. He closed his eyes for a few minutes, waiting for the pain in his eyes to fade. Another pain started, deep and pulsing behind his forehead, the beginning of a migraine for sure. He rolled over and grabbed his phone from the bedside table, nearly dropping it from how bad his hands were shaking. It took a couple minutes to send a fairly coherent text to Barry; his fingers shook and it was practically impossible to type.

  **hhey bar,,**

**could you uh. Come over , if youree tired tjats. Ok but**

He knew it was pathetic as hell, and in the middle of the night, but the tight, painful feeling in his chest was telling him this wasn't just pre-vibe jitters. A feeling of radio static flickered through him, like he had phased out for a second. A sharp, sick wave of panic flooded through him. _Not now, fuck, not now,_ he thought, but when a stronger jolt passed through him he knew his fate was sealed.

Cisco almost screamed as a vibe overtook him.

He was standing in the middle of nowhere, looking out at a tumultuous, gray ocean. Then he was under the water, everything black and shaky like a found-footage film, the pressure burning his ears and the salt rubbing his throat raw. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, it was like his feet were weighted down-

and then he was back. A sick jolt of static rushed his head and the migraine behind his eyes reared its ugly head, shattering his thoughts and making him shiver. It was freezing in his apartment, and the icy air had him shaking like a leaf. 

He vaguely heard his text tone he'd set for Barry, the happy little dinging noise, and shakily grabbed his phone. His eyes had trouble registering what he was saying.

**Of course, whats wrong?**

Cisco gave a shaky smile, hot tears still tracking his face. 

**vibes**

He couldn't breathe, he really couldn't. His chest was tight and painful and for a second he had to question whether he had accidentally slept in his binder. He hadn't, but it felt like it, everything cold and dizzying. He felt cut off and scared, and let out a soft whining sound, pathetic as fuck. 

He stumbled into the bathroom and turned the smaller light on, inspecting his face in the mirror. He looked like shit, he decided, face red and eyes red, his hair a mess. He swayed and caught himself on the sink. There was a gentle, distant knock on the door, and it made him jump. Carefully he made his way into the living room, trying not to fall. Cisco fumbled with the lock and haphazardly pulled the door open.

"Hey." Cisco mumbled, looking up at Barry exhaustedly. Really, Ramon? He said to himself. Your boyfriend is here after you texted him in the middle of the night to come over, and all you say is _hey_? 

"Come here." His voice was soft and concerned, and it made him sound like every bit the hero he was. Cisco let out a soft, choked whimper and buried his face in his chest, shaking all the while. "Hey, hey. You're alright. I promise." His voice was relaxing, too relaxing, and his hugs were really, really good for someone so fucking bony. Just really, really good in general, and the warmth emanating from him made him incredibly exhausted. He felt chilled and tired, and after a few more seconds he let go. 

They walked over to his couch, and Cisco curled up in the corner. He felt dizzy and insubstantial, like he was fading in and out. The vibe washed over him like a tidal wave.

It was the water again, painting his throat colors he couldn't describe and burning his nostrils with salt. Odd things circled around him, lights and sounds and color. The weight of the water had him so tired, he was falling, falling, couldn't..

Suddenly he felt incorporeal and nauseous, Barry gripping his shoulders and practically holding him up. 

"Oh god, are you ok?" He gasped, and Cisco shook his head desperately. The pain building behind his eyes was tight and dizzying, sharply burrowing into his brain. The hot tears were back, spilling down his cheeks as he let out a nearly-unintelligible whimper of pain.

Cisco felt him gently cup his face in his hands, and he started slowly vibrating his fingertips, the reverberations soothing the migraine that had taken hold of him. His hands traveled down to his back, gently rubbing warm, vibrating circles that made him shudder. Cisco let out a sharp, wheezing cough, and Barry frowned at that, pressing the back of his very warm hand to his forehead. 

"You're burning up." The concern was prevalent in his voice, and this sounded impossible to him. He was  _freezing,_ shivering in Barry's warm arms, but when he thought about the rolling nausea and the tightness in his chest he guessed it made sense. 

"I'm.. I'm gonna make some tea, ok?" He rasped, pushing himself to his feet, and his vision blanked out. He came to in Barry's arms, being held very gently. 

"I didn't think that would happen. I-I think it was your hands." Cisco mumbled, poking him in the chest accusingly, and Barry chuckled.

 "How about I get us some tea, alright?" He inquired softly. Cisco nodded, and in a sudden rush of movement he was lying back down on the couch. Within maybe 5 minutes Barry came back with 2 mugs of tea balanced carefully, along with a huge blanket. 

"Thanks." Cisco said softly, taking the mug Barry held out to him and sipping slowly. 

"That's how you take your tea, right? a little half and half, enough sugar to kill a horse?"

"You know me far too well." He laughed, sipping a little of the sweet liquid that was hot, but not scalding. It was.. Either completely generic earl grey, or some weird obscure herbal blend. Both weird and fantastic all at once. Barry bit his lip and pulled the blanket around Cisco's shoulders. The warmth of the tea, and the utter exhaustion and pain he was feeling? And with the blanket added on? He'd be diving straight into sleep, nightmares or no, within 10 minutes or less. 

They sat there, in comfortable silence. Or it would have been comfortable, if Cisco's mind wasn't stuck on a feedback loop, like he was trapped in a temporal anomaly. His head was spinning, and he was so tired. Tired. Tired. 

The word tripped in his head like a record skipping, and he shook his head, trying to clear his mind. His vision was all blurred, all all all all-

He remembered something he heard in a podcast a few times, about how we're all pointless and the sweet release of death is inevitable. Maybe we don't exist, he thought. Maybe we're all figments of our own imaginations, hopeless little attempts to make everything seem real. Life is an endless, tripping feedback loop, he thought, a dream. Feelings are fabricated and our surroundings are too. We scream endlessly into a soundless void, hoping for an answer Answer answer answer ans..

"Barry," He mumbles softly, words slurring a tiny bit. The words are tight in his chest, and he's lightheaded from all of the dissociation. And he felt empty, horrifyingly, heartbreakingly empty. His energy was gone, if it was ever there in the first place. "I can't breathe." He stumbled over the words, stuttering and clipped and breathless. 

"Cisco. Cisco, look at me." Barry ordered softly, gently prying the mug out of his hands, putting it down. Lacing his fingers through Cisco's. His green eyes were gentle and warm, like a summer evening. "You're having a panic attack, alright? I think? I need you to take a breath and slow down, ok?"

He tried it and it didn't do anything. His thoughts were skipping, not quite finishing no matter how hard he tried. His chest was tight and there was that horrible feeling you get in your stomach that you can't quite tell if it's nausea or if you're gonna cry. Radio static was filtering through his head, both the vibe feeling and the dissociation kind. 

 And then he was back in the water, but it was different this time. It felt more real, crushing his chest and pressing in on his ears painfully. He tried to breathe, vaguely knowing it wasn't real, and just sucked in freezing saltwater. And then the blackness faded into the portal room, the sickening buzz in his sternum as Eobard Thawne spear-handed him in the chest. Blood and water crushing his lungs at the same time, blackness and light, water and dry land.

The vibe faded almost as soon as it began, and he didn't realize he'd screamed until the sound stopped. There was a terrifying second where he really couldn't breathe, at all, until he met Barry's eyes again and the tears started.

Hot, ugly tears started dripping down Cisco's face, and he made a pathetic noise. He gave a little choked gasp and practically collapsed into Barry's arms, sobbing horrendously. His shoulders shook and it was like all the words stuck on a loop came undone, ears buzzing with the silence. He was crying so hard it made him cough, painful and rattling, his chest tight but in a different way. Cisco felt horribly, dizzyingly incorporeal, the headache returning and pulsing through his head. It made his stomach lurch and he swallowed hard, throat dry and painful. He kept crying, kept on, kept on, until he physically couldn't cry anymore, feeling strung out and exhausted. Until his eyes hurt. 

With shaking fingers he picked up the warm mug of tea, raising it to his lips, nearly dropping it, and then taking a slow sip. It warmed him a little, steadied him, and he sighed softly. Pulled the blanket closer around him. 

"Come here. You look freezing." Barry murmured, and Cisco obliged, setting down his mug and making himself comfortable, pressed up against Barry like a sad, dissociative cat. He gently pulled an arm around Cisco, and started gently rubbing his back with lightly buzzing fingers. That, along with the warmth he emanated, felt like heaven, and he could almost ignore how exhausted he was. The dregs of dissociation were still swirling in his mind, threatening to rise back up and grab him with its gruesome tentacles. 

He shivered, not wanting to let his mind wander again. Their relationship, whatever it was.. Maybe Cisco really wasn't good enough. Barry had had a crush on Iris since they were kids, and Cisco was just the obnoxious tech guy with the superpowers that brought out his worst tendencies..

He shook his head and tried to stop thinking about it, desperately, but no matter what the thoughts just wouldn't  _stop-_

Cisco made a frustrated sound and clutched at his temples, just about ready to tear out his frontal lobe, if that was what it would take. "Are you okay?" Barry inquired, gentle, tracing patterns into his back, so light it made him shudder. Cisco didn't answer, deciding he didn't really have the capacity for words right then, didn't have the energy. He got very nonverbal when he was tired. He just haphazardly pressed his face into Barry's shoulder, trying to get as close as possible. It was  _freezing._

"Hold on." He said softly, and practically vanished, but only for a couple seconds, returning with yet another blanket, big and fluffy. He wrapped it around Cisco, the blanket practically engulfing his shaking frame. Barry was also holding a thermometer, and Cisco frowned at it, but took it anyways, taking off the cap and putting it in his mouth for a couple seconds. 

"101.3. Could be worse, but you've got a fever, alright." He said softly, and Cisco curled closer, wrapping his arms around Barry and getting as comfortable as possible. He retaliated by draping an arm around his waist and running his buzzing fingers through his hair, which almost coaxed out a very inappropriate noise from Cisco. The vibrations hummed through his whole body, making him pleasantly tired in a dizzy, odd way. 

"I'm sorry." He muttered. All he'd done so far was be an absolute burden, which he hated. He'd just been sick and weak and crying, dissociating every five seconds, and and and and.

More ands rattled through his head, and he made a pained noise, digging his fingernails into his arm. Barry gently but firmly took his arm, pulling his hand away from his arm. 

"Cisco, honey, please don't apologize. It's okay. You didn't choose to get sick, and you sure as hell didn't choose to get these powers. Please don't be so hard on yourself." He said softly, beginning to rub gentle circles into his back. A shudder of nausea worked its way through Cisco's stomach, but he ignored it, exhaustion creeping into his body. He was so, so, endlessly tired, and Barry was endlessly warm and soft. Sleep would feel so good when it finally came. 

The void reached out its swirling, finger-like tendrils, creeping into his mind, sleep creeping into his mind, and it took him. He let it.

 

~~

 

Cisco sat up.

He recognized the world around him, but only vaguely, the muted grays and blacks telling him that this was the room where he had built the trap for the Reverse Flash. It didn't surprise him, and he knew what was gonna happen. He accepted this, because he'd lived it so many fucking times he knew exactly what was coming.

"You've shown me what it's like to have a-" And Cisco Ramon opened his eyes and looked.

He wasn't standing there, paralyzed with fear in front of Thawne. Instead he was a few feet away, merely a silent spectator, and it was Jesse Wells standing there, eyes filled with shimmering tears as she looked at the man who shared her father's face. It was her paralyzed with fear, so  _young,_ so utterly vulnerable. She was going to die this time, not him, and he was frozen standing there. He tried to scream, tried to tell her to run, but his cries died on his lips. 

There was a buzzing noise and a sudden movement, and Eobard Thawne thrust his hand into her sternum. She screamed, high and long and piercingly awful, or maybe Cisco screamed, like he had been vibro-handed in the chest as well. Maybe he had. His chest felt tight and hot, and he coughed, or tried to, an awful, tight sound. 

"Cisco! Cisco, wake up!" Barry's voice cut through the nightmare, and he gasped awake, clutching at his chest. He was sickeningly dizzy, tremors wracking his shoulders. He couldn't breathe, couldn't couldn't couldn't couldn't repeated again, shaky. Nausea tightened its grip around his stomach, worsening with the memory of Jesse's screams. She was dead, wasn't she, she was dead. 19 years old and a new hero, snuffed out by the man who stole her father's face and name. 

His breath hitched in his chest as the dream hit him smack in the face, the screaming, the hot, white pain. Still couldn't breathe,wasn't breathing. His vision blurred and he gasped for breath, so off equilibrium he couldn't tell which way was up as he grabbed Barry's shoulders, desperately trying to steady himself. Cisco coughed heavily, wheezing and sharp like daggers in his throat. Black was dancing around the edged of his vision, spotted red. 

"Fuck, fuck, you're alright, just breathe for me, ok?" Barry broke his language rule, he thought dazedly, and tried breathing, in and out and in and out. It didn't seem to be doing a whole lot, other than hurting. 

"Jesse." He mustered, "S-she. She's-" Cisco was cut off with a fit of harsh coughing, ripping through his chest violently.  He made a little gesture with his hand, shaking it and then tapping his sternum hard. Barry paled slightly. "Cisco, honey, I'm sure it was just a dream. You're really, really sick right now." He said softly, carding his fingers through Cisco's dark, tangled locks, which were at his shoulders now. He gently started rubbing his back, soothing, small circles with buzzing fingers. Cisco shuddered at first, remembering the dream, nausea tying knots in his stomach that made him feel like, for the first time all night, he could actually get sick. The idea of that pissed him off and scared him at the same time. Everything was cold and spinning, and he was still shaking desperately. Pathetically. 

"Hey, hey. Come here." He said softly, pulling him closer, and Cisco closed his eyes tightly, rubbing the top of his left palm, right below his fingers. He repeated the motion over and over, and eventually his other hand went to his sternum, pressing there and rubbing in slow circles. He calmed very slowly, feeling that yes, he was real, no, Thawne hadn't killed him. That he was okay, or would be.

Cisco coughed roughly a few times, hard enough to hurt him, rolling through his head and chest in waves. He was dizzy and shaking, not to mention exhausted, and he wanted nothing more to fall the fuck asleep. Carefully he adjusted his position on Barry's chest, but moved a little too quickly, and he swayed. Barry caught him firmly by the shoulders, pulling him close and starting to gently rub his back again while he tangled his fingers through Cisco's hair. 

" 'M feeling like shit, Bar." He bemoaned quietly, and his boyfriend stroked his hair gently.

"I know. I know. If you aren't feeling better by tomorrow afternoon, I'm calling Cait, alright? Just try and get some rest now," Barry soothed, "What hurts? Is it anything specific?"

Cisco made a vague gesture to his whole body and snuggled closer to him. His headache gave a throb of particularly alarming ache and he shivered a little harder, involuntarily curling in on himself. 

"It's okay if you don't want to talk. you don't have to, honey. Just try and get some sleep. You need it, you poor nerd." The way Barry was talking to him, the tone he was using, it made Cisco endlessly warm and sleepy. He just sounded _so_ nice, and his chest was very warm, not to mention nice for napping on. 

"Can you just.. Keep talkin'?" Cisco slurred. Barry laughed a little, which was also nice, a light, soft sound.

"Of course," He said softly, "I'll talk about you, I guess."

"I love your stupid nerd hair, and your stupid nerd smile, and I love your weird little quirks. I love the way you rub the top of your palm with your thumb whenever you get upset. I still get butterflies in my stomach when you look at me in certain ways, and getting kissed by you is one of the best things ever, even above running and food. I love your voice, even if you use it to sing obnoxious Top-40 hits in the shower. I love the gasping little sound you make if I touch you in certain places, no matter the context, and I love your stress baking at 4 in the morning," Barry mused softly, stroking his hair all the while. "But most of all, Cisco Ramon, I love you."

But Cisco was already falling asleep, drifting into a heavy, deep slumber, quite unlike the restless naps he had managed before, the gentle sound of Barry's voice lulling him to sleep once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cisco gets worse. Barry doesn't panic, not even a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw for very brief, non-graphic vomiting, and non-real drowning. 
> 
> Drowning from whenever Cisco enters a vibe to whenever he exits, in both the beginning and nearish to the end of this chapter.  
> Vomiting from "He genuinely didn't feel like he had any energy whatsoever" to "Exhaustion slid through him like a cold front coming in"

It was in the middle of the night when Cisco woke up, rolling over on the couch and whimpering softly, pathetically, he thought, because fuck, fuck, he really, really didn't feel good. 

His entire body was shaking and slick with sweat, which was weird because it felt like he'd been stuck in a snowstorm. He was as cold as ice, his skin clammy and freezing and generally unpleasant. Chills raced up and down his spine, and static buzzed through his brain. Cisco's stomach rolled like he was floating up and down, up and down, stuck in the waves so far from shore he'd never make it back. He tried to speak but found that he couldn't, the only thing coming out was a choked, stuttering whine. 

Static flickered through his head like a death sentence and he shivered, dropping into the vibe like he'd been shoved. The water closed over his head again, pitch black and freezing against his skin and hands and throat. He tried to fight this time, spinning around in the water, pushing against the currents. It didn't work. Cisco sank deeper, and deeper, until finally he was at the bottom, and when the sand settled his stomach certainly didn't. More static. Barry's voice pulled him out of the vibe within a few seconds, calm and gentle.

"Honey, you're okay. Come on, wake up, it's alright." A warm hand settled on his forehead, a stark contrast to the chilled, clammy feeling running through him. "You're burning up." A twinge of worry entered Barry's soft voice, and he gently smoothed Cisco's hair. He genuinely didn't feel like he had any energy whatsoever, but he tried to sit up anyways, leaning heavily against Barry and feeling his stomach lurch perilously. He swallowed hard and then heaved, one arm wrapped around his middle. Barry zipped away for less than a second and caught him as he returned, holding a trash can. He set it on the floor for the moment.

Cisco sat there, trying to breathe, and then he retched again, violently. It hurt, a sharp ache spreading through his stomach and chest. Barry rubbed his back, trying a little bit of vibration to see if it helped, and while it usually would, it just made him even queasier thinking about Thawne. He dry-heaved again and then gasped for air, shaking. His breathing hitched and he fumbled for the trash can, and then Barry was holding it in front of him, the saint. It was in good timing, too, as something cold twisted through Cisco and he threw up, hard. Barry held his dark, thick hair out of his eyes as he hyperventilated into the bin in between heaves. 

Exhaustion slid through him like a cold front coming in, and he put the trash can down, leaning heavily against Barry. 

"C-can you-" Cisco broke off into a fit of painful hacking, and when he stopped he gestured vaguely at his stomach, an intense, nauseated ache still present there. Barry thought for a minute, and then smiled softly at him, green eyes gentle and warm.

"Of course, honey. Tell me if I need to stop, ok?" He said quietly, and Cisco nodded. Barry gently, carefully slid his hand under Cisco's shirt, and he was spectacularly warm. Slowly he started rubbing gentle circles, making his fingers vibrate only very, very slightly, and fuck, it felt good. The sick feeling ceased a little as he rubbed circles into his stomach. He was still sweating and shaking, clammy and chilled but less so because of Barry's eternal warmth. 

He yawned, exhausted as Barry's deft fingers gently massaged and slid across his stomach, trailing down enough to his hips to make his face go a little pink, but never crossing any boundaries. He still felt shitty and freezing, mind you, but less so with his boyfriend working his magic like this, hands gentle and buzzing. 

Cisco curled up closer against Barry as if he was a cat, yawning again and letting his eyes drift shut as he slowly calmed down. This was the closest he'd felt to good in a few days. 

 

He drifted in and out of sleep for a few hours, and then he must've really fallen asleep because when he opened his eyes there was gentle, soft sunlight streaming through the windows. No matter how gentle it was, it made Cisco's head hurt, a pulsating ache forming behind his eyes. It seemed like he had gotten a little better, though; he didn't really feel like he was going to throw up right now, and he didn't feel like his lungs were squeezing in on themselves as much. 

Barry had dozed off with one arm around him, and his snores were a quiet almost-purr. The speed-heat coming off of him was a blessing, and he was a mess of angles, like a geometry major had gotten drunk and tried to do their homework. He was drooling a little, which was both gross and endearingly cute at the same time. Cisco sighed and closed his eyes again, trying to soak up his warmth for as long as possible. After a few minutes, Barry stirred, stretching carefully as to not disturb him. He buried his face in Barry's shoulder.

"It's too bright." Cisco murmured. "It's makin' my head hurt." His speech slurred a little with exhaustion, and Barry laughed, a warm, bright sound. 

"Ok, honey, just stay here for a second, alright? I'll get the blinds." He soothed, pressing a quick kiss to Cisco's temple and flashing away in a streak of gold. Back in a second, the blinds were down, and the throbbing in his head faded to a dull ache. "Is that better?" He inquired softly.

"Yeah." He responded, and sat up. "I think I'm feeling well enough to make myself some tea. Do you want any?" His voice was exhausted and raspy from coughing and sleep. Barry shook his head. 

"Cisco, baby, I've got it. You're sick. You almost fell over last time." He ran one reassuring hand through Cisco's hair, kissed his cheek, and zipped off, returning in a minute or two bearing 2 steaming mugs. Even the Flash had to wait for tea to steep. "Lemon-ginger for you, 1 tablespoon of sugar, 1 tablespoon of honey, of course. That should help your throat. For me, mint green tea, 3 sugars." Barry listed off, and handed Cisco the space mug. He took a sip and sighed contentedly.

"You're an angel, you know that?" He mused, and Barry laughed. He leaned over and kissed his forehead, then sipped his own drink. Pausing for a second, he turned and pressed the back of his hand to Cisco's forehead.

"I think your fever's gone down some." His voice was soft, and Cisco sipped his tea again, feeling the warmth seep into his throat and stomach. It was nice. Completely unexpectedly, static ripped through his head and he barely managed to set his mug down before a vibe overtook him.

This one was different. He was backed against a wall, and some cliche supervillain-no, metahuman, he corrected, was forming a huge wall of water behind her, blue eyes shattered with fractured light. She grinned with blue-black lips and encircled his head with a spinning ball of water, and Cisco desperately held his breath as he fought and kicked. She had him off of the ground somehow, and he slammed his elbow against the bricks, sharp pain lancing through him. His lungs spasmed quickly and painfully, and he gasped involuntarily.

He tried to cough as he sucked in water, a stream of bubbles obscuring his vision, and screamed, hands freezing and sparking as everything glowed blue. Suddenly they fizzled out, and when he exhaled hardly any bubbles were coming out, lungs burning desperately. Everything went black, and he came to on the floor, choking on water that wasn't there. Barry was kneeling next to him, and Cisco caught his arm desperately, looking him straight in the eye. "Breathe, Cisco. I need you to breathe for me." Barry pulled him into an upright position carefully and started rubbing his back, simultaneously fishing his phone out of his pocket. "Caitlin, hey, I know it's early, but I need you at Cisco's place in give or take 5 minutes. Can you do that?" His voice was panicky. "Ok, thanks."

Cisco felt burnt out and dizzy, gasping for breath as he clung to Barry like a lifeline. 5 minutes felt like an eternity, but suddenly Cait was kneeling in front of him, fully dressed and asking him more questions than he could process at that time. His heart was pounding in his ears, words swimming by and not making sense. He shook his head distinctively, hands shaking, and she stopped.

"Ok. Ok, just try to breathe, Cisco." She soothed gently, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder. "Now, can you tell me what happened?" 

"I-I vibed myself getting.. Getting drowned by a-a meta. Some kid I don't recognize. Couldn't breathe when I came out of it." He choked out, gasping still. She took his vitals and frowned. 

"Barry said your fever had gone down. I think your vibes heighten it," she fretted. "I'll give you something for that, plus something for your lungs. I think you've just got the flu, but your vibes are making it worse." Caitlin explained, voice soft, and she rummaged through the extensive medical kit she was carrying, pulling out 4 pills. "Take 2 now, one after 6 hours, and the last one when you wake up tomorrow, ok?" She said, and he nodded, pulling her into a hug. She hugged him back, and looked at Barry. "If he gets much worse, call me." He nodded, and with a wave she left, like the medicine fairy. The image made him feel a little bit better.

Barry helped Cisco onto the couch, depositing 2 pills into the palm of his hand. Cisco swallowed the first one with some tea and little difficulty, but nearly choked on the second one. Finally, though, he managed to swallow it, sipping his tea to calm down. He pressed closer to Barry, not wanting to acknowledge how nauseous he was. Taking another sip of tea, he exhaled shakily, and Barry started stroking his hair. 

"Honey, you don't look like you feel good." He fretted quietly. Cisco sighed a little and shook his head.

"I need you to do me a favor," he mumbled, trying to figure out how to word it without sounding like he was hitting on him or about to throw up. "I'm gonna go take a quick shower, change clothes, but I don't know if I can actually walk that far. Maybe just a little, I'd be ok with, but not all the way down the hall." He mused, and Barry nodded, thinking for a second. 

"I'll just pick you up, it's ok." Cisco knew Barry wasn't kidding, and braced himself. He picked him up gently, stomach dropping from the change in position, and Barry walked like a normal person down the hall to Cisco's bedroom. Quickly, so he wouldn't fall, Cisco grabbed a clean t-shirt and boxers with flowers on them. Barry picked him up again and walked to the bathroom this time, setting him down gently on the floor and making sure he was able to stand safely before leaving him to his showering, shutting the door behind him.

He clumsily undressed, shirt smelling like sweat and his boyfriend's cologne. Tiredly, he got into the shower and turned on the water, letting the cold spray gush over his shoulders and back. It made him shiver, but it felt nice, and he at least made the effort to wash his hair so he looked less like a sick person who didn't shower and more like a sick person who had his damn life together. The soap smelled like cinnamon and erased the ocean from his mind, at least for a little while. 

Cisco dried off and pulled on his clothes slowly, and looked at himself in the mirror. His face was pale, but his cheeks were flushed. Sighing, he opened the door, and Barry picked him up carefully, and in a flash he was sitting on the couch, shivering. His stomach lurched from the sudden transition, and he sipped his tea, one arm curled around his middle. A sudden, short keening sound escaped him, and Barry curled around him protectively. "Cisco, baby, what's wrong?" He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead. 

"It's nothing." Cisco mumbled, ashamed of lying to his boyfriend about it. If there was one thing he hated, it was being seen as needy. 

"No, it's not, honey," Barry insisted. "Do you feel sick?" His voice was so gentle it almost made him cry. Cisco tried to respond, but just ended up coughing, pain lancing through his chest. Barry rubbed his back until he caught his breath, gently murmuring quiet comforts in his ear. 

"Y-yeah." He rasped, and Barry frowned, pulling a blanket from off the top of the couch and around his shoulders. 

"Do you think more tea would help? Maybe some water?" Barry asked. 

"Tea sounds nice. Only if it's not any trouble, though." His voice was quiet and rough, and Barry kissed his forehead again. 

"Of course not. I'll be right back." And he was off. Barry returned within a few minutes while Cisco was coughing, and he gently held him. He handed him the mug of tea, warm and steaming. "Just honey-ginger this time. That should help your cough a little, maybe settle your stomach. Help you get some rest." Cisco sipped it carefully and sighed, warming up. After a few sips, he really did feel a little better, not to mention sleepy. It seemed like the vibes had left him for now.

"I'm tired." He grumbled, pressing closer to Barry, who laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. 

"Ok. Drink some more tea, then you can get some sleep." Barry said quietly, petting his dark, thick, wavy hair. Cisco took a deep drink of tea, letting it warm him up from the inside out. It felt good on his throat, which was sore from coughing earlier. He sipped again, and decided he was too sleepy to continue. 

"Bar, can I sleep in my bed? It's more comfortable." Cisco slurred, setting down his mug and burying his face in Barry's shoulder. 

"Of course, honey. Do you feel good enough for me to run there, or just walk like a normal person?" He inquired, gently pulling him into his arms, bridal-style. 

"Walk." He managed. Cisco's vision tilted as Barry stood up, and he wrapped his arms around his neck to combat the vertigo, digging his fingers into his shirt. He let his eyes slide shut, listening to the rhythm of Barry's steps. Soon he was gently depositing him onto the bed, and Cisco grabbed hold of the blankets and burrowed into them. Barry kicked off his shoes and laid down next to him, and he was willing to share his blanket-y wealth with his boyfriend if that meant he got to get closer to him. 

Cisco pulled him closer and wrapped his arms around his waist, fitting his head under Barry's chin and intertwining their legs. The speed-heat coming off of him was comfortably warm, like he was cuddling a hot water bottle.

"You're adorable when you're sleepy." Barry chuckled, and started to play with Cisco's hair, running his fingers through it and vibrating his hands. He ran a thumb down the side of his face and Cisco, even though he felt like shit, had to keep himself from making a hardly appropriate noise. Exhaustion lowered onto his brain like a blanket, slowing his thoughts and movements. He drifted, but he felt safe this time, not at risk of falling into a vibe.

 With that, he let sleep take him.

**Author's Note:**

> The hand thing Cisco was doing whilst closing his eyes tightly is one of my favorite stims, honestly. It's something I involuntarily do when I'm stressed or sad or upset, or even excited.


End file.
